


Worlds Beyond

by sodium_free_salt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Keith (Voltron), Allura and Coran show up later, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Ouran High School Host Club Fusion, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, M/M, Mafia Daughter Allura, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Teenage! Coran, punk! keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodium_free_salt/pseuds/sodium_free_salt
Summary: "The wide, expansive hallway, filled with magnificent, ornate windows, showcasing a manicured courtyard with roses and other delightful greenery below, dead ends at with a single door, not unlike any of the other doors in the hallway. Perhaps, the only difference between this one and any of the other interchangeable doors is the sign up top that reads tech-room #3, and then just below that is another sign labeled not in service."An abandoned tech-room..?"Excitement buzzes through the air as the door swings open, pushed open by a breeze that seems to come out of nowhere. Standing in the center of the room is five young men, posed in their Garrison issued school uniforms. "Pidge is a scholarship student at the worlds most prestigious private academy. But after stumbling upon the Galaxy Garrison's Host Club, and then destroying their couch, Pidge must join the club in way of paying them back.





	Worlds Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! A couple things: this is basically the first time I've ever written fiction, so.. hopefully it's not to bad? I like how this turned out but I've also got a lot of things planned for this story. I wanted to use the setting of ohshc but make it a lot more of my own story but I think the first chapter is similar to the original :/ oh well
> 
> Well I hope you like it!

_Only those with excellent social standing and those from filthy rich families are lucky enough to spend their time here, at the elite private school, the Galaxy Garrison Academy. The Garrison Host Club is where the school's handsomest boys, with too much time on their hands, entertain young ladies and gentlemen, who also have way too much time on their hands. Just think of it as the Garrison's elegant playground for the super rich and beautiful._

  
  


"You'd think with four huge libraries, at least one would be at least a little quiet."

 

A shabby looking student with a rats nest of auburn hair, muttering about _self-absorbed aristocrats_ and _seven lounges, where the sole purpose is casual discourse_ , stumbles past a door labeled _library #4_. Anyone with ears can can hear the cacophony of voices coming from inside. The short, five foot kid hefts the oversized backpack on one shoulder, fixing the weathered, green-knitted sweater underneath, and continues on without bothering to even open the door this time.

 

"Well, the fuck should I go now?"

 

The wide, expansive hallway, filled with magnificent, ornate windows, showcasing a manicured courtyard with roses and other delightful greenery below, dead ends at with a single door, not unlike any of the other doors in the hallway. Perhaps, the only difference between this one and any of the other interchangeable doors is the sign up top that reads _tech-room #3_ , and then just below that is another sign labeled _not in service._

 

"An abandoned tech-room..? Maybe there's some old computers in there!"

 

Excitement buzzes through the air as the door swings open, pushed open by a breeze that seems to come out of nowhere. Standing in the center of the room is five young men, posed in their Garrison issued school uniforms, and each poised in unnatural positions around a couch, as if taking a ridiculous group photo. Not that they were making silly poses, because there was no mistaking how serious they were, but more like they were trying a little too hard to look like vogue models.

 

"Hi, the name's Lance. Welcome to the Galaxy Garrison's own Host Club." A tall boy breaks his pose to greet the room's new addition, speaking with distracting hand gestures as he moves. He has tan skin, that seems to glow with how flawless it is, short brown hair, and dark grey eyes with a blue tint. The boy, Lance, sticks his hand out with a flirtatious wink and a coy smile.

 

The poor kid eyes the extended hand, looks up to the owner's face, large glasses reflecting the light, and turns a complete one-eighty towards the door. "Wrong room!"

 

Lance's face falls immediately, shoulders slumped and everything. The room, however, erupts into laughter from the remaining four boys.

 

"Wait, you can't go, you just got here!" Having recovered from his initial rejection, Lance springs into action, blocking the newcomer from getting to the door by jumping in front of Pidge, grabbing tiny shoulders, and putting on his most overwhelming pleading face to dissuade another retreat.

 

One of the boys, still letting the last of his giggles fade, regards Lance's captive as recognition flashes over his face. "Oh, hey! You're the scholarship student. Pidge Gunderson, right? We have math together!"

 

Pidge turns just enough to see the one who just spoke. Unable to turn all the way due to Lance grabbing Pidge's shoulders.

 

The kid that spoke out has a curious look in his hazel eyes and almost looks reverent. He is a couple inches taller than Pidge and, actually, they look a lot alike. If it was not obvious that they had never met, one could understandably call them siblings just based on looks. Although, Pidge's hair is slightly darker, they both have the same color eyes and eye shape, have freckles, and similar noses.

 

"Oh, we have English, history, and intro to mechanical engineering together!" Another boy states his recognition after getting a good look at Pidge. This one is of considerable size, definitely the tallest in the room, with dark skin, making him look possibly Samoan in heritage. His face is warm and expressive, but something seems to register in his mind as his face becomes more contemplative. He looks back and forth between Pidge and the Pidge lookalike. His voice becomes suspicious, "I never noticed how much you look like Matt before this..."

 

The Pidge lookalike straightens up at this, critically inspecting his doppelgänger. By this point Lance has let go of Pidge and is also inspecting their similarities, giving Pidge freedom to turn and, unconsciously, mirror Matt's movements.

 

The two open their mouths at the same time, "I don't see it."

 

No one argues any further so Lance takes the opportunity to steal the spotlight again, "See, you're already making friends!" His face slips into a flirtatious smirk, gearing up for his next remark. "Though, I'd like to be making something more than friends with you."

 

Grimace already set in place, Pidge takes a step away from him. "I'd rather not make anything with you."

 

Again, the room brakes into a round of laughter, even Pidge gives a small, self-satisfied chuckle. "Nice one, Pidge," the large, Samoan one yells over the teasing laughter.

 

Lance, however, has thrown himself dramatically to the floor, hands clutching at his heart. "Keith! Did you hear what he just said to me! I thought you were the only person ignant enough to be mean to me!"

 

"It's ignorant, Lance. And, I don't think you're using that word correctly," a black haired kid sighs as he steps forward to lift the wallowing Lance off the floor. He has a clear punk vibe about him; long hair, about shoulder length, that allows the tops of his ears to peak out enough to see multiple piercings on them, a little bit of eyeliner, making his vaguely Asian heritage stand out, and black fingerless gloves to top it all off. He turns to address Pidge, "You can ignore him, he's not serious."

 

"Hey! I'm always serious! And, you're supposed to be on my side, Keith!"

 

Pidge watches the two of them interact with one eyebrow raised. Particularly taking notice of the way Lance is throwing himself at Keith and Keith not even flinching, like this is something of a common occurrence between them.

 

The last member yet to identify himself strolls over and places a firm hand on Keith's shoulder. His hair looks perfectly styled, black hair that is short on the sides, longer on the top, and a perfect bleached strip of white on his fringe. He has a huge build, like he lives in a gym, but he is nothing if not approachable. He smiles sweetly down at Pidge, placing an arm out for a handshake. Pidge eyes it for a moment before taking it. "I'm Takashi Shirogane, but everyone calls me Shiro. This is my brother Keith," he gives Keith a light pat, "you've been introduced to Lance," he smirks a bit at that, then loosely gestures with the hand from Keith's shoulder to Matt, "That's Matt Holt, and that big guy's Hunk," lastly, pointing to the tallest man. "It's great to have you here."

 

Pidge gives him a slightly skeptical glance, "And why's that?"

 

"'Cause you're poor as shit with a full scholarship to the most prestigious academy on the globe. And, not only that, but you skipped to senior year math and science in your first year attending!" Matt chimes in, striding up behind Shiro.

 

"Psh, who cares about what he did and didn't do with a face like that!" Lance goes to make a grab at Pidge's cheeks, but his hands are wacked aside by a grimacing Pidge.

 

"What the hell are you guys doing in here anyway? Isn't this supposed to be an old tech-lab?"

 

"Well, we use it for our club now. My club. I'm the founder and club president of the Galaxy Garrison Host Club!" Lance seems to finally stop sulking. Again. Perking up at any opportunity to talk about himself.

 

"A host club? Like one of those places rich old ladies go to to talk to young hot dudes?"

 

"Well, kinda!" Lance yells indignantly, "Not old ladies though! Hot ladies! And men! Anyone that wants to be entrained by the Garrison's handsomest students."

 

"Right, well, good luck with that." With Lance still blocking the door, Pidge starts to back further into the room, eyeing the club member warily. Suddenly, wishing the scrawny kid's bag was not so huge, Pidge snags an uneven tile on the floor, immediately losing balance and falling back onto the fine velvet couch. A series of hard cracks is heard from the bag and Pidge throws the shoulder straps off, wide eyes immediately scanning the bag. Opening the bag reveals a slight stream of smoke.

 

Pidge turns towards the others, in similar states of shock, and with panic taking over demands, "Fire extinguisher! Where's a fire extinguisher!?"

 

Shiro jumps into action first, running to the storage closet, but it is too late. The bag erupts into fire, the couch catching as well. Keith runs up to pull Pidge away from the burning objects just as Shiro returns with the fire extinguisher. The fire is extinguished fairly quickly as the rest of the group spring forward to open the windows for ventilation, lucky that the windows are so enormous that the smoke clears in just minutes.

 

"Dude... Our couch..." Hunk looks like he is about to burst into tears.

 

"I'm so sorry. I can pay for it-" Pidge starts rambling, afraid of making Hunk actually cry, but is cut off by Keith, eyeing the carnage with a slightly impressed glint in his eyes.

 

"No, you can't. That couch costs about eighty-thousand dollars."

 

With a mischievous smile, Matt adds, "And your poor ass can't even afford a uniform to the school you attend." Pidge looks beyond horrified. "What do you think, boss? How's this commoner going to pay us back?"

 

Lance takes a moment to consider the situation. He looks like it is taking all his brain to come up with a solution. Suddenly, he perks up, then slides into his signature smirk. "You'll have to repay the club for the damages you've caused, obviously. And, since you clearly can't pay with money, you'll have to pay with your body."

 

The way he says the last line sends a chill down Pidge's spine. Looking around, Pidge notices all the club members have vague expressions of amused to hopeful, with a bit of worried in there.

 

"Shit."

 

>~~<>~~<>~~<

 

"I got your shit from the store."

 

"Pidge!" Lance says the name like an elongated wine, "A gentleman doesn't use that kind of language in front of his guests."

 

"Good thing I'm not a gentleman."

 

"When you serve my club, you are. Now, show me the goods, sweet thing."

 

Pidge gives Lance a dead stare, while the girl sitting next to him lets out a light giggle, but it sounds unnatural and forced.

 

"Here, coffee, cinnamon, sugar, cream, coffee stirrers, and since you gave me way too much money for all this crap, I bought a bunch smarties with the rest."

 

By the time Pidge got back from shopping, the first official job as the host club's newly appointed errand boy, the club was in full swing. Students fill the abandoned tech-lab chatting with one another, mostly trying to get the attention of the five hosts. Most of the attendants were female but a few male here and there.

 

"I've never seen any of these brands before... Is this what the commoners buy?" Lance quizzically inspects each item. "Are these candies?"

 

Pidge stares at Lance like he just said the earth is flat. "Have you never seen smarties before? Sorry I didn't buy you a bunch of expensive shit."

 

"Well, what does it taste like?"

 

"It's just sugar..." Pidge seems be completely done with this topic, "Look, I'll just return and get you something else-"

 

"Oh shit, are those smarties?" Keith cuts the end of Pidge's sentence off. He looks excitedly at the bags of smarties, a fond expression playing at his face, almost as if he was reliving a memory right then and there, "It's been forever since I've had smarties..."

 

"You've had smarties before?" Lance looks back and forth between Pidge, his eyes look almost hurt but mostly he has a look of skepticism.

 

Keith mostly ignores his question, engaging with Pidge instead, "I used to get so many of these as Halloween candy..."

 

"Me too, I used to give all mine to my mom 'cause I hated them, but now I like to eat 'em every once in while for nostalgia sake."

 

Keith lets out a breathy laugh, "Sounds about right."

 

Lance has had about enough of being ignored. He stands up, dramatically throwing his arms out wide, one going directly between Pidge and Keith. A small crowd gathered to see the items Pidge delivered while Pidge and Keith were talking. Lance begins addressing everyone in the room, "Everyone! We are all going to try this candy our new club member brought us."

 

Everyone looks hesitant, even the hosts look reluctant. Keith rolls his eyes and grabs a bag of smarties to start passing them out. Guests start opening the individual packagings but none attempt to eat the underpriced confection. The loose powder falls from the wrappings onto their uniforms and the pristine floors, creating a thin layer that covers the upper class in cut-rate sweetener. Lance is the first to break the mold, reaching forward to grab a small disc shaped candy from the stack encased in plastic, causing the remaining sweets to topple a slight amount. It is quiet as Lance brings the contaminant up to his face, still inspecting its qualities.

 

"Oh, Lance, you don't actually have to eat the thing just to appease your new pet." The girl sitting beside Lance from earlier gives another airy giggle after her interjection.

 

Lance holds a hand up to her face. Shock paints her face for a moment, while she stares at the accusing hand. Without even glancing at her, keeping his focus on the treat, he replies, "Nyma, don't worry. I'm sure it'll be fine." He does not sound convinced, voice wavering just a bit.

 

For the briefest of moments, Lance breaks his concentration to lock eyes with Keith. The dark haired boy is already looking at him, a faint but fond smile adorning his features with a single eyebrow raised.

 

That appears to be all the encouragement he needed, because Lance throws his head back and pops the small candy in his mouth. His face screws up into one of deep concentration. He looks as though, he can not seem to figure out what the thing even tastes likes. All eyes are on him, as the wait for the offending sweet's verdict. "It's definitely sweet... Kinda chalky..." then, his eyes light up, appearing a brighter shade of navy than normal, "but it's good!"

 

He flashes Pidge a bright smile, dumps the rest of the pieces left in his candy wrapper into his mouth, and turns encouraging eyes to the rest of the crowd. Nyma tosses hers onto the coffee table sitting in front of the sofa she is currently occupying, refusing even open the plastic casing. The rest of the guest still look hesitant, but as soon as they get a taste, pleased smiles spread across their faces. No one is as entranced as Lance, however, but no one is spitting it out, either.

 

"Nyma, did you get one already?" Lance suddenly turns his attention on the blonde girl, her golden hair in two long French braids settled perfectly on her chest.

 

Her lilac eyeshadow shimmers in the light as she fixes her gaze on the young gentleman. Nyma lets a faux smile grace her face once more, "Of course. It was much too sugary for me. You know I prefer my desserts a bit richer."

 

"Naturally, a lady as rich in beauty as yourself would have a taste pallet just as rich." Lance leans well into her personal space, hovering close enough that their noses are barely left untouched. Another saccharine titter passes her lips but she is otherwise unaffected by there close proximity.

 

"Ugh," Pidge's face contorts in disgust, "is this what you do in this club?"

 

"For the most part," Hunk is suddenly right at Pidge's side, "but this club is basically just an excuse for Lance to mess around."

 

"And you all just go along with whatever he says?" Pidge turns to address the huge teddy bear. It is quite a sight, the two of them juxtapose each other almost perfectly. Pidge reaches barely past Hunk's sternum, and his arms are mountainous compared to Pidge's small twigs.

 

"We all get little of something out this. Plus, just having a place to come to everyday with all your friends and just hang out, can be really nice." He practically blinds Pidge with a bright smile, filled with hope for something Pidge is reluctant to place. "And, we don't go along with everything he says. One time he tried to convince everyone to put live jellyfish over our heads."

 

Pidge snickers, "Why on earth would he do that?"

 

"I don't know, something about a giant evil eel that was trying to brainwash us."

 

"You didn't see it! I saw that thing! It tried to _eat_ me!" Lance pushes himself into the conversation, much to Nyma's disdain, looking more and more irritated.

 

"Oh, I believe you, buddy," Hunk gives the distraught boy an easy grin, then leans down to Pidge's level, muttering, "It was just some dream he had."

 

"It was not!" He whines as he flips his whole body over the low arm rest of the plush couch that he and Nyma had been chatting on.

 

Another eye roll from Pidge, but this one has just a bit of amusement to it. It seems anyone could get accustomed to his over the top behavior.

 

"Oh! Some of the stuff in your backpack wasn't too burnt," Hunk pulls a notebook from his back pocket. The thick, leather cover has obvious scorch marks, but it appears to have saved the inner pages from incineration. He then proceeds to flip through the pages as if he owns the worn thing. "Your diary seems perfectly fine. You've got some interesting stuff in here..."

 

Pidge's eyes blow wide, looking between Hunk and the journal. Reaching out to grab the book, the offended kid gasps, "Did you read it!?"

 

"A little while you were gone. What's a Voltron?"

 

He lets Pidge snatch the notebook back. Tiny fingers clutch it like a lifeline, and relief begins filling every muscle of Pidge's body now that the stolen artifact has been returned to its owner. It takes a few short moments for the last spoken words to sink in, but soon Pidge's focus is back, leveling a sharp glare to the thief.

 

" _Don't touch my stuff._ " It is a threat. One that no one should take lightly. The atmosphere feels ten degrees colder and a couple nearby patrons pick up on the tense air that hovers around the two. Even Lance seems to notice, sending a quick glance, but keeps his attention on distracting the young ladies that flank him from all sides.

 

However, looking at the offending party, it is hard to imagine he just caused such a intense reaction from a petite student like Pidge. He looks completely unfazed, all genuine curiosity and an eagerness to continue their conversation. "Well, I also took a look at the junk you had in there. Were you trying to build a computer?"

 

Oddly enough, Hunk's utter disregard for Pidge's discomfort is the correct course of action. Pidge gives him a quick once over, built up walls crack as it is determined that Hunk means no malice.

 

"Yeah, spent the better half of the last half-year collecting parts and putting it together. Pretty proud of it- or, uh, was- proud of it. Is it salvageable at all?" Uncertainty screws up Pidge's face, but eyes lighting up with hope at the prospect of saving six months worth of work.

 

"Hmm... I think there's a couple parts that you could maybe still use, but honestly even those look like you got it out of the trash."

 

"Well, most of the parts I did technically get out of the Garrison's trash. Honestly, it's amazing how often laptops are thrown out at this school. It's like no one cares if they break or spill food on their laptops 'cause they just buy a new one easily."

 

"The Garrison know that you're stealing from their garbage?" Matt saunters into the conversation, slinging an arm over Pidge's shoulder.

 

Pidge turns a bit to look at his face. At this distance a faint scar can be seen running down his left cheek, but it looks as though it has been covered with makeup. "It's hardly stealing when it's just going to the dump anyway."

 

"Well, regardless, we did keep the old stuff from the tech lab. It's all shoved in one of the storage closets. We were going to give it to a electronic recycling place but never got around to it." Hunk shrugs one shoulder, adding on, "Plus Matt thought it might be useful to keep."

 

"And it will be once I find the best way to use it..."

 

Pidge has already checked out, glaring at the floor as though through will alone, the answers to all of life's questions could be summoned and read like a novel off the pristine tile.

 

Matt, however, cuts the summoner's concentration easily, "You could just take some stuff."

 

"Really? I was just thinking of how I was going to steal it..."

 

"Well, the room was intended for students to take supplies for projects and what-not. So, I don't see why you shouldn't just take some."

 

"But, uhh..." Hunk gives a nervous glance toward where Lance is still sitting with Nyma. Pidge's eyes trail after to see Lance staring at them intently. He lifts his finger, points at Pidge, and a beckoning motion.

 

Matt puts a hand on Pidge's bony shoulder and, much warmer than any other statement from him so far, says, "I'll show you after club's over."

 

Matt's rewarded with a small but excited smile that turns to hard determination when Pidge turns back to Lance.

 

He points to couch across from him and Pidge sits down. "I'm teaching you proper manners. First, let's start with compliments. When complimenting a woman, say something sincere but not creepy. Something specific, but try to make it something the woman already enjoys about herself or is something she is in control of. For example: her clothes or accessories, the way she styled her hair, her confidence. And never lie, _they can always tell._ " The last part is said in faux whisper.

 

Lance turns to Nyma, giving her a half lidded gaze. He trails his hand down her arm to her hand, gently pulling it into view. His finger are feather light across her knuckles and the silver bands that adorn multiple of her fingers. "I love the rings you wore today. They're as elegant as you are."

 

"But I seem to have forgotten the most important one." Nyma giggles and flashes a soft smile to Lance but her eyes cut across to somewhere else in the room briefly.

 

"Now you give it go. Tell Nyma something nice."

 

"Uhh... I like your makeup. It's heavy."

 

"No, Pidge," the club president drops his charm for moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't ever call a lady's makeup heavy. And how about you say something specific that you like. Tell her that her eyeshadow makes her eyes pop!"

 

"Your eyeshadow makes your eyes pop... and I like that it matches the color of your earrings."

 

Lance gasps, "There we go! Now you're getting the hang of it!"

 

Nyma brings her hand delicately to her mouth to hide the genuine amusement in her smile. She levels Pidge with a heated gaze. "Thank you, Pidge. They were a gift."

 

>>>>>>>>>>

 

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

 

Nyma takes her time answering. She takes her tea cup off of the table, light refracting from the window off the rimmed bottom to the white marble table, takes a sip, and sets it back down with little to no noise emanating from her person through the entire action. “Who told you that?” She smiles sweetly, her face full of false charm, but her voice leads to some genuine curiosity.

 

Pidge leans forward on the table a bit, adding some weight to the reply, “You didn’t seem to appreciate my presence yesterday.”

 

Again, Nyma takes her time replying, turning to look out the window. The two of them are sat toward the back of the clubroom at a table set up against one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows. The view itself, though stunning, showcases a scenery not unlike the scenery from any other point in the school, in that it displays a view of the immaculate gardens that envelope the school grounds from three stories up. The mid-afternoon sun casts a haze of orange on the Garrison’s prominently white features. Nyma’s earring catches the sun’s light in a way that mirrors the shine of her eyeshadow, both exactly the same as the day before. “That’s not true. I appreciated the compliment you gave me yesterday.”

 

Pidge does not further the conversation, electing to join Nyma in observing the landscape in silence. Thick golden clouds in the distance mask the earth below, enshrouding the land in darkness. It speaks of rain, but not on their school, and certainly not soon.

 

“You know, it’s my family that created _Beezer_.”

 

Pidge turns wide-eyed back to Nyma, “Wait, _Beezer_ ? Like the _artificial intelligence_?”

 

Nyma pushes her teacup further onto the table and leans in, closing the space between the two students in a way that mirrors Pidge’s excitement. “The very same,” she giggles around the words.

 

“Oh my god, that’s _amazing_!”

 

“My parents are working on developing _Beezer_ into a fully functioning robot.”

 

“ _God_ , how I’d love to get my hands on that kind of tech.”

 

Nyma establishes eye contact as she says, “When we’ve got a working prototype,I’ll bring him in to show you,” rakes eyes over Pidge’s body in an action that should come off as sensual, but instead comes off as calculating. Nyma cuts her gaze to side then pulls back, giving the two of them a more appropriate conversing distance, and takes a sip of her tea.

 

Someone in the direction that Nyma had looked clears their throat before speaking, “Pidge,” it’s Lance, “today I’d like for you to entertain one of our gentleman guests. Shiro usually entertains our guest Rolo, so you will be shadowing him. And, of course, I will be keeping our fine Lady Nyma company.”

 

Pidge looks to Nyma to be excused, but Nyma is turned away to the window once more. Taking that a sign to go, the newest host stands to look for Shiro.

 

Shiro is easy to spot, he’s standing by the far wall next to a lanky student with hair that is shaved on the sides but fairly long on the top. He looks a bit like a surfer-dude, but that could be because he has one of those tank tops with a tropical sunset under his open school uniform jacket.

 

“Hey, Shiro. Lance said I’m shadowing you.”

 

Shiro faces Pidge with smile, “Yep. It’s good to see you again. I hope no one’s given you too much trouble. Heaven knows they give me a lot.”

 

“No, they’ve been fine. Yesterday, Matt and Hunk showed me the abandoned tech supplies, so hopefully I can get back to rebuilding my computer soon.” Pidge end the sentence with a turn to acknowledge the lanky man to whom Shiro had previously been talking.

 

“‘Ey, nice to meet you,” he sticks his hand out for Pidge to shake, “‘m Rolo” Apparently, he looks like a surfer-dude and sounds like one.

 

Pidge takes his hand with a firm nod, “Pidge.”

 

“Nyma didn’t bother you any, did she?” Rolo looks back to where Pidge came from. Nyma is wearing her same sweet smile, her hand in Lance’s as he bends over the table into her space.

 

“No, she told me about her family’s business. You know her?”

 

Rolo pauses for a second, his features turning amused, “Yeah, I know her.”

 

Shiro chuckles, “Rolo and Nyma’s families go way back. In fact, Rolo only comes here to keep an eye on Nyma.”

 

“‘Ey, I come here for the free food, too,” Rolo gives an easy smile, “your company ain’t so bad either.”

 

“Well I can’t have you haunting the back corners of our club activities.” Shiro pats him on the back and laughs a bit. “Lance told me to teach you _the fine art of wooing a man_ , but we can just chat for bit. Lance is the only one that really flirts with any of the guests... Although, I guess Matt does a bit too if he’s in the mood.”

 

“Alright,” Pidge appears to contemplate the idea for a moment. “So... Keith’s your brother?”

 

Rolo has taken to people watching, content to sit out of the conversation for a bit.

 

“Yep.”

 

“And he’s Lance’s... best friend?”

 

“Nope. I believe that title actually belongs to Hunk. He and Lance have been friends since kindergarten, apparently,” Shiro chuckles.

 

“But they aren’t together? ‘Cause I feel like with the host club thing, it’d be a little weird.”

 

“Nope, but they are very important to each other.”

 

“Cool,” Pidge considers for another moment, “Are you dating anyone?”

 

“Well,” Shiro looks away, his grin turning a bit forlorn, “my boyfriend, Adam, broke up with me before his family moved to a different country, but that kind of relationship is hard to give up... We’ve been long distance for about a year now.”

 

“Ah... I’m sorry. I know separation can be tough. I had to get my own apartment to go to this school. Pretty much the first time I’ve ever been separated from my mom.”

 

“You don’t live in the dorms?”

 

“Nah, my scholarship didn’t cover it.”

 

“That sucks,” the bigger student puts a hand on Pidge’s shoulder, and Pidge melts into the contact a bit.

 

“Hey, Pidge,” Matt calls from a few feet away, making his way over, “I need you to do something for me.”

 

Shiro gives Pidge a quick nod, extracts his hand, and starts a conversation back up with Rolo. Pidge, similarly, turns to give Matt the attention he demands, “Whatcha want?”

 

“I need _you_ to go get more tea biscuits from one of the school kitchens.”

 

“Yeah, alright.” The host club’s errand boy starts walking toward the doors, passing the table at which Nyma and Lance were sitting earlier, but from which they now seem to be gone. Hunk, however, intercepts Pidge near the entrance.

 

“Have you seen Lance?”

 

“No, he was at that table earlier, but I don’t know where he is now,” Pidge says gesturing over the shoulder.

 

“Ugh, _those_ two. Rolo and Nyma are always playing these weird mind games, using the clubroom like some messed up chess board. I’d stay away from those two unless you want to get mixed up in their weird drama.”

 

Pidge shrugs, “I don’t know, Nyma was pretty nice to me today. Did you know her parents invented _Beezer_?”

 

“ _Not you, too_ ,” Hunk groans and leaves, making his way further into the clubroom.

 

Pidge makes it all the way out into the hall before pausing about five doors away. Through the door of a classroom labeled _Psychology #2_ , Lance and Nyma’s voices can be heard.

 

“Uhh,” Lance confidence sounds like it is waning, “what are we doing-” _The sound of a chair scraping the floor, followed by two clicks._

 

“I need you to help me,” Nyma’s voice is still full of that fake charm. _The sound of a chair creaking._

 

“N- _Nyma_ ,” Lance’s voice is getting more frantic, “club members aren’t supposed _to_ ,” his voice starts getting breathier and slipping up on certain words, “engage in physi- _cal_ intimacy outside of flirting and casual to- _uches_.”

 

Back down the hallway, the club doors open then footsteps head toward Pidge. Pidge turns to see who is approaching, only to spot Rolo making his way down the hall. Rolo call out from a couple yards away, “‘Ey, you seen Nyma?”

 

Pidge freezes, muscles tightening in an automatic response, eyes darting back to the door. Rolo looks to the door with an eyebrow raised for a second before the door swings open.

 

Lance is standing in the doorway, his face red and looking absolutely terrified. Nyma is behind him with her arms slung over his shoulder and her hands clasped loosely in front of his chest. She smiles a cheshire grin, looking like she is enjoying herself immensely.

 

“Nyma, what the hell?!” Rolo lunges forward, grabbing Lance by the collar of his uniform. Nyma shift back in a fluid motion as if she had expected this reaction from the beginning, exposing the full extent of Lance’s state. His jacket is completely undone in the front and his shirt is shoved to one side, showcasing the freshly made hickey on the side of his neck.

 

“Hmm?” Nyma innocently cocks her head to the side.

 

“This!” Rolo jerks Lance around by the collar, emphasizing the branded side. Lance does not resist to being tossed about but his body is tense as if gearing up for a blow. His hands, however, never move to a defensive position, they stay behind his back.

 

Pidge looks back to the clubroom after hearing some shuffling in that direction. Many of the club members are making their way over. Shiro is directing all the guests to stay in the clubroom, while most of the other member look on in confusion. Keith, however, starts running as soon as he is able to make out the situation. He slams into Rolo, causing his grip on Lance’s shirt to dislodge, and drives him into to the wall. He has one hand fisted into Rolo’s tropical tank top and his other arm secured across his chest, pinning him to the spot.

 

Hunk is the next to make his way over, positioning himself as a physical blockade between where Lance and Pidge have now congregated and Nyma, Rolo, and Keith.

 

“Everyone calm down,” Shiro asserts himself into the conflict. “Lance, what happened?”

 

“Uh...” He looks down to the floor, shrinking from everyone’s gazes. This spurs Keith into a state of agitation and shoves Rolo a little harder into the wall. Shiro levels him with a quick reprimanding look before turning to Pidge.

 

“Pidge, do you know what happened?”

 

“I walked past the door and heard Lance and Nyma in there. Lance said something about club member not allowing physical intimacy, then Rolo came by and they came out of the room, and when Rolo saw Lance he grabbed him and started yelling at Nyma.”

 

“Is this really about that stupid engagement?” Rolo struggles a bit against Keith to speak directly at Nyma, “I’ll call it off if it really bothers you that much. You can’t keep using other people to get me to cave.”

 

Nyma, calm as ever, simply giggles, “Is that what you think I want? You’re even worse that I thought.”

 

“I’m serious, Nyma. Just tell me what you want.”

 

Her mask cracks a bit, allowing some frustration to paint her features, “Fine. The _engagement_ is a joke. A game we played as kids.”

 

“So I’ll tell our parents we’re calling it off-”

 

“No,” Nyma crosses her arms and looks away before continuing, “it was never _on_ to begin with.”

 

“...You want me to propose?” Nyma does not answer but her cheeks tint pink. “Jesus, Nyma.”

 

Keith’s hold had gone slack during the whole exchange, so Rolo extricates himself and heads to Nyma’s side.

 

“Alright,” Shiro turns to Keith, “Keith take Lance and Pidge to the bathrooms, get yourselves cleaned up. Matt, Hunk, go tell the guests that clubs over and clear the clubroom. I’ll take care Nyma and Rolo.”

 

Everyone shuffles into action, taking Shiro’s orders instride. Keith comes to Lance’s side, gently taking his shoulder and steering him toward the bathroom. Pidge follows a step behind, getting a full view of Lance’s back. His wrists are held together with metal handcuffs.

 

When they make it to the bathroom, Pidge takes a moment to glance at the boy’s bathroom sign, before stepping through the door. Keith instructs Lance to have a seat on the counter.

 

“Ha...” Lance gives a nervous laugh before turning to show Keith the state of his wrists. “She put the key in my jacket pocket but, uh... I can’t reach?”

 

Keith forcefully reaches into his pocket to fish out the key, muttering, “ _She’s dead_.”

 

“In her defence,” Lance’s voice regaining most of its vibrancy, “I went along for most of it. I knew she was just trying to make Rolo jealous like usual.”

 

“That doesn’t make what she did okay. That doesn’t mean she gets to put her filthy _mouth_ on you.” Keith is seething.

 

“I know,” Lance is suddenly all hard determination.

 

Keith finishes removing the handcuffs and motions for Lance to sit on the counter. “Were you hurt all?”

 

“No, I’m fine.” Keith puts himself between Lance’s legs and gives him a once over, before moving to zipping his jacket back up. He pauses just before Lance’s neck, his fingers hover over the mark but he seems to snap back to reality a moment later and harshly zips the jackets the rest of the way. He steps out of Lance’s space, hands clenching at his sides, and, in a split second decision, grabs the long necked faucet and yanks it to the side, sending water from the broken sink straight toward Pidge.

 

“Shit,” Pidge, silent throughout the exchange, finally utters a word. Keith, taking in what he had just done, shoves the faucet back into place. It does not stop the water from spilling out, but now it is merely flooding the counter. The damage is done however; Pidge is drenched.

 

“Oh my god, _Keith_ ,” Lance laughs and moves to Pidge’s side, “What’d you do that for?”

 

“I’m so sorry! I was going to punch the mirror but I thought it might be better to brake the sink instead. I’m sorry, Pidge.”

 

“It’s fine,” Pidge waves off their concern, movements slow from the heavy water-absorbent sweater.

 

“We’ve got spare uniforms in the clubroom, come on.”

 

>>>>>>

 

“Do you care which one I get?” Hunk asks with an expectant gaze.

 

“Nah, whatever you got is fine.” Hunk pulls a uniform out of the drawer and hands it to Pidge then leaves the storage closet, closing the door behind him. Pidge quickly changes into the uniform and steps out into the clubroom, where the other members are waiting.

 

The late-afternoon sun fills the room with a beautiful golden glow. The club members all have smiles on their faces, happy that their newest member has assimilated into their group so seamlessly. They all have matching uniforms now that the latest member has received one. The uniform, like normal, is the school’s colors, orange and white, with black and gold details. However, unlike the rest of the group that have grey dress pants, Pidge’s uniform has a grey pleated skirt that reaches just above the knee.

 

“Wait...” Lance’s confusion seems to just hit him, “Pidge, you’re a _girl_?! But you went in the men’s bathroom with us!”

 

“Lance, gender segregation is a ridiculous construct in the first place.” Pidge levels him with a halfhearted glare, “Honestly, I don’t really care, but I guess I prefer they/them pronouns the most.”

 

“No problem, Pidge,” Shiro puts a firm hand on their shoulder, “and if you have any other requests, we’d be happy to hear them out.”

 

Pidge smiles, “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I run and run...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNkVWoRmy1A)
> 
> I cannot tell you how frustrating it was trying to write an entire chapter without using a pronoun for Pidge. Anyway, I don't know if many people will be interested in this but tell me what you thought, I'm very new in this world of fanfiction and I have no idea what I'm doing  
> ( ･ั﹏･ั)


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